


it's been some time since we last spoke, this is gonna sound like a bad joke

by acheybones (orphan_account)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Divorce, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Not Beta Read, Past Eddie Kaspbrak/Myra Kaspbrak, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, bojack horseman quotes, but they are so gay for each other, could be read as platonic reddie, idk why i never write the other losers, it's nothing personal, mention of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/acheybones
Summary: "I need... Eddie, I need..." Richie tries, hands pulling on the hem of his leather jacket. He feels like it's had to have shrunk since he put it on this morning."Spit it out already, Rich!" Eddie asks, close to throwing his hands in the air and wiping them clean of the taller man for good."I need you to tell me I'm a good person."+or, Richie's career is stuck in a downward spiral and Eddie's getting a divorce. Things could be better.(title from "cupid's chokehold" by gym class heroes)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	it's been some time since we last spoke, this is gonna sound like a bad joke

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by that episode of bojack horseman where he shows up at diane's author's panel.
> 
> sorry it's been awhile i have just had absolutely no inspiration. let me know any requests of what you wanna read at any of the places below. ❤️

Eddie could forgive Richie for a lot of things. 

He could forgive him for when Richie had "accidentally" pushed Eddie into an ant hill when they were four. He could forgive him for when Eddie had finally worked up the courage to ask Lauren Feinstein to dance at Stan's bar mitzvah and Richie had managed to spill cola down the front of Eddie's shirt. Fuck, Eddie could forgive Richie for getting drunk and vomiting in the middle of his best man toast at Eddie's wedding.

Eddie couldn't forgive Richie for this. 

It's bad enough he was third-wheeling with Ben and Beverly to the show, but for Richie to not even come out?

_"We regret to inform you that tonight's show will not be proceeding as planned. Please exit to the ticket window for refunds or rescheduled tickets."_ A faceless voice echoes through the auditorium. It's not Richie's, and Eddie wonders if he even bothered to show up tonight. 

Richie can't afford to just not show up, and the whole world knows it. Maybe it's the fact that he feels like Richie owes him something. Maybe it's because Myra had sufficiently raked him over the coals at this week's appointment with the divorce attorney. Maybe it's just because Eddie doesn't have any fucking thing left to lose.

Whatever the reason, he's fuming when he turns to Ben standing next to him.

"I'm gonna talk to him." He spits through clenched teeth.

"Eddie, he isn't worth it. Look, this night was supposed to be fun okay? Why don't we just go for burgers and beer and call it good?" Bev tries, one hand intertwined with her husbands and the other stroking up and down Eddie's bicep.

"I'm sick of his shit, Beverly! He thinks he can just do whatever he wants! No matter..." Eddie screams, his voice trails off when he notices how Ben tries to subtly push Beverly behind him without breaking her contact with Eddie. The audience is bustling with complaint and trying to get to the ticket counter as quickly as possible, too preoccupied with paying attention to Eddie's own tantrum at his former best friend's behavior.

"No matter who he hurts." He finishes, finally. "I'm sorry for yelling, Bev. I know you're not the one I'm mad at. This... this is just something I need to do, alright?"

Eddie's never had anger issues, per say, but he has always had a problem with overexciting too easily. It's something he's had a terrible time trying to rein in during the divorce hearings.

Ben gives a sad, knowing smile. Bev pulls Eddie closer to press a friendly, chaste kiss to his check and rubs his arm once more.

"We'll wait for you outside." Bev says before her and Ben turn to fall into the procession of people heading out of the auditorium.

Eddie expects more of a fight from the guard considering that, as far as he knows, he's just a visibily angry fan, but the guard just waves him back when Eddie flashes the VIP lanyard around his neck.

Richie isn't a bad person, he's just bad at being famous. Too many demons inside his own head he's spent his whole life avoiding. The constant light of too-bright camera flashes and everyone feeling like they're entitled to something from him. His money, his attention, his time. 

It all came to a head a year and a half ago when Eddie opened Twitter to find that Richie had been admitted to a Los Angeles hospital after he had been found unconscious in his own vomit and a stomachful of Ambien. Eddie and Ben had cried on the phone for an hour, until Myra came home to tell him to man up.

Ever since, Richie had been stuck in a vacuum of his own creation. Everyone had written off his overdose as a publicity stunt, because Trashmouth Tozier never knew when to stop. Others thought it was a joke gone too far. Whatever it was, Richie stopped answering the Losers calls. He didn't show up to their annual Friendsgiving dinner. He hadn't said a word to Eddie since his divorce had become very public knowledge. It was getting hard not to take it personal.

Richie's dressing room is easy enough to fine, considering his name is emblazoned on a haphazardly hanging sign on the door. Eddie's not a monster, so he knocks.

No answer.

"Rich? It's Eddie." He tries instead, rapping his knuckles against the door again. 

It's still quiet.

"Rich, you've got us all worried sick out here. The least you could do is answer the door." 

Eddie's mind floods with the gut-wrenching flashback of first hearing that Richie overdosed, and before he can think any further he's pounding the door open. It never was locked, but Eddie was trying to be considerate.

"If I wanted to talk, I would have." Richie says, sprawled out on his back on the couch in his dressing room. His eyes are closed and his head is facing away from Eddie.

"What the hell, Rich? You had me worried sick." Eddie says, shutting the door behind him. "You have all of us worried sick."

"What do you want?" Richie doesn't open his eyes.

"I want to know what the fuck is going on with you." Eddie doesn't mean to, but he can feel himself about to boil over all over again.

Richie has everything he could ever want. Yeah, maybe his career has taken a slight left turn, but that's his own fault! He cancels shows minutes before he's supposed to go on! He never shows up to public events and whenever he does he's wasted! That hasn't stopped his fame or money, and Eddie has a hard time trying to figure out what Richie has to be so upset about. He says as much.

"You know what, dick? I'm getting tired of your bullshit." Eddie doesn't have time to think about why his hands shake when he jabs a finger at Richie.

"Join the club." Richie says humorlessly, and the part of Eddie that isn't furious is genuinely frightened because he's never seen Richard Wentworth Tozier without a goofy, crooked grin on his face. When Eddie looks at him now, he looks devoid of any emotion at all.

"Do you know Bev had a miscarriage? Do you know Stan lost his job? Do you know I'm getting a divorce?" 

"What am I supposed to do about any of that?"

"You're supposed to give a shit!" Eddie says, grabbing Richie's arm and dragging him up to sit on the couch. 

"I do." Richie finally opens his eyes, and they're bloodshot. Not the bloodshot that comes from drinking or being stoned, not even the kind that comes from crying, but the kind that ages his face ten years and shows that he hasn't slept in too long.

Eddie doesn't relent. "You could have fucking fooled me. You could have fooled all of us!"

Richie doesn't look at him. It's like he looks through him, staring off somewhere far away, into a different timeline where Eddie never met Myra. Where Ben and Beverly have all the children they could ever want. Where Richie never tried to-

"I mean you practically dropped off the face of the Earth! How are we supposed to feel whenever the only time we hear from you is when we're hearing about you?"

Eddie knows it's unnecessary. Beverly didn't deserve this, and he thinks that Richie probably doesn't either, but he can't stop.

"You can't just avoid us for damn near two years. You can't cancel shows right before you're supposed to go on. You have everything you've ever wanted, how the fuck is your life so bad?"

Richie focuses on Eddie for the first time all night, and Eddie sees a broken man. A man who is long past "needing to talk to someone". A man who Eddie doesn't recognize as his Richie, soft and warm before the tendrils of fame took a stranglehold around his neck.

"Richie, I can't help you if you don't talk to me. No one can." Eddie wants to shake Richie out of this like a bad dream. Like if they just open their eyes, it'll all be over. They'll wake up on the otherside where they should have always been.

"I need... Eddie, I need..." Richie tries, hands pulling on the hem of his leather jacket. He feels like it's had to have shrunk since he put it on this morning.

"Spit it out already, Rich!" Eddie says, close to throwing his hands in the air and wiping them clean of the taller man for good.

"I need you to tell me I'm a good person."

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asks, confused.

"Deep down, I am a good person. I know it doesn't seem that way, but I am. I need... I need to be told I'm a good person. All I ever hear from anyone is that I'm a fuck-up. Everyone thinks my

life is just one big joke." Richie has fat tears falling down an otherwise emotionless face and Eddie finds it unsettling.

"Everyone thinks I'm just a joke and I'd be better off if no one found me-"

"Hey, hey... Shhhh, no, Rich. None of that is true." Eddie sits next to Richie on the couch, tries hard not to think about the last time it was thoroughly cleaned, and wraps his arm around him. Richie has over a foot in height advantage over Eddie but he feels impossibly small in Eddie's arms right now.

"I should have died. I shouldn't be here."

"Richie, you made a career out of helping others laugh when they need it most. You deserve to be here." Eddie tries, rubbing Richie's back.

"All I'm good for is what someone else needs from me." Richie mumbles into Eddie's shoulder.

Fuck, that was what this was about, wasn't it? Edeie had stormed back here thinking Richie had just reached the peak of self-righteousness. Not stopping to see how their friend who had been the comedic relief since they were children, wasn't able to give any relief to himself.

"You're a good person, Richie. You always have been."

"I'm so alone. I'm so tired, Eddie. I'm so, so tired." Eddie new what kind of tired Richie meant. It wasn't the tired a good night's rest could fix, but the tired that came from being everyone else's punching bag for so long, and Richie was looking like he had been wailed on.

"You can rest, Rich. I'm here. You're a good person. Such a great person." Eddie knew he was rambling but he couldn't stop it. Richie had been taking care of everyone else for so long, he needed someone to take care of him.

"Such a great person..." 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter](http://twitter.com/acheyb0nes) and [tumblr](http://acheybones.tumblr.com) if you're into that


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